


the love, the dark, the light, the flame

by AndreaLyn



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-11-29 02:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18216731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: She doesn't lose her memory, but Isobel loses something that seems even harder to overcome - two years of her life spent in stasis. There's been so much change around her and for the first time in her life, she's an outsider, alone, looking in.





	1. the love, the light, the dark, the flame

**Author's Note:**

> What if it took two years to fix Isobel instead of a matter of weeks? This fic diverges after the events of 1x09, since I'm sure as soon as 1x10 airs, it will smash this to pieces.
> 
> Title comes from _As It Was_ , by Hozier.

Isobel Evans was seven years old when a voice outside her own consciousness told her, _it’s time to go_. It’s time to be part of the world. It’s _time_. She’d never asked if Max or Michael had heard it, but it had coaxed her out of her pod and brought her to Earth, releasing an alien amongst a whole other species.

This time, she goes willingly back into the pod with the comfort of promises made. She trusts Liz and Michael to find a solution. She trusts Max to make sure she stays safe. 

This time, the voice isn’t a strange echo in her consciousness coaxing her out. This time, she hears Max.

“It’s time, Isobel. We figured it out.”

His hand reaches inside of the pod and Isobel clasps onto it. She’s never been sure if they’re actually twins, but in this moment, she feels more connected to Max than she ever has to anyone else. She wraps her fingers around his wrist and he pulls her back to earth.

Isobel lets someone wrap her up in a robe, looking frantically around the cave. She feels disoriented, but she has her memories. That’s _Liz_ wrapping her up in soft cotton and behind her, there’s Max. Michael is hovering by the entrance, rubbing his palm over his mouth, tears in his eyes, like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. 

“Welcome back, Iz,” Michael says, huffing out a laugh.

“I need to inject you with a dose of the antidote right away,” Liz tells her. “Nod if you understand.”

She does, even if the words feel trapped. When Liz injects her, Michael hurries closer, rubbing his hand over her other arm when she whimpers from the pain of it. She’s not sure if it’s the time in stasis or if it’d really hurt, but she can see them watching her like they’re worried she’s going to keel over.

Hesitantly, her gaze flicks between the three of them, waiting for something awful to happen, but it never comes. She doesn’t cough up more blood, she doesn’t pass out. 

“It worked,” Liz says, when five victorious minutes pass and she seems willing to call it. She cups her hands over her mouth and exclaims for joy in Spanish behind them, her eyes shining with excitement. “We’ll need to monitor you, we need to…”

“Isobel, do you remember us?” Max interrupts, with one clear thing on his mind now that they aren’t worried about Isobel suddenly dying. 

She feels like there’s something in her throat preventing her from speaking clearly. She manages to nod as she coughs into her arm, her head turned at just the right angle that she sees the light from the pods refracting against the wall, bouncing off the diamond gems of a ring.

It’s not the ring in Max’s hand that’s catching the light. It’s not Noah’s wedding ring, which she’d entrusted to him before going inside and the one he has now, ready to give back to her now that she’s out of the pod.

It’s an engagement ring on Liz’s hand. 

“How long,” she begins, her voice croaking and awkward. “How long was I in there?”

Max and Michael exchange a look and she knows that look. It’s the one where they’re about to do something really stupid and decide for her. Her awareness of their shitty habits means that she definitely has her memories, but she’ll be damned if she lets them pull that on her. Deciding to turn to the sane one, she clasps Liz by the jacket and forces her to look at Isobel.

“How long was I in there?” she demands of the one person she trusts to answer, even if Liz looks like a deer stuck in headlights.

“Two years,” Michael finally says, even if Max and Liz are glaring at him like they don’t want him telling her.

_Two…_

“…years,” she says out loud, her vision swimming. The last thing she hears before she loses consciousness is the three of them shouting her name in a panic.

* * *

She comes back around to acetone on her lips and three worried faces hovering over her. She’s still feeling a little off and she swats at them to try and get them out of her personal bubble. 

“I’m fine. It was just a shock so soon out of the pod,” Isobel protests, as Michael hands her a flask of acetone and a bottle of water, crouched by her side and insisting that she drink it all. Max and Liz are huddled nearby now that she’s pushed them away, whispering to each other. Isobel sniffs and tries not to feel like she’s lost at sea, with so much having changed. “…the ring?” She knows that ring. It’s Nana Evans’, which means…

Michael glances over his shoulder. “Uh, yeah,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “Max proposed a couple of months ago, but they refused to set a date for the wedding until we figured out how to fix you.”

She’s missed _so much_. Fraught with the chaos inside her head, she could focus on the news about Max and Liz. Instead, she focuses on something adjacent, trying to search for whether she can understand what happened with Rosa, but there are as many blanks there as ever. If Liz intends to be with Max, shouldn’t Isobel be able to give her a better explanation? Maybe she’d been hoping that being one with the technology again would release all the memories from her blackouts.

Clearly not, seeing as all she’d done was sit there in stasis, trapped, while the world continued on without her.

“You’re still here,” she says, eyeing him with suspicion. “That means you didn’t figure out a way home?”

From the look on his face, Michael’s surprised she knows about that, but while she’d never overtly used her power on him, his emotions always bled through when he was younger, that deep yearning for home that meant more than a set of parents and a roof over his head. Besides, she’s smart enough to know that a man trying his best to get home and with a genius brain working for him wouldn’t have settled for Roswell.

“I’m going to gloss over the part where you think I’d abandon you,” he says sharply, which brings a wave of simultaneous guilt and relief. “Of course I’m still here. It’s been an eventful two years and a lot has changed my priorities, including finding a solution to save your life with Liz. I’ll tell you all about it. Promise.”

He squeezes her shoulder, while Isobel readies herself to ask what _that_ means, but doesn’t get a chance before Max and Liz rejoin them.

“So,” Liz approaches them cautiously. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” Isobel admits, listing into Michael’s arms, letting him rub her back. “Out of the loop,” she tries to joke. “I hear congratulations are in order?” She’s trying so hard not to let it sting, but it hurts to know that while she’d been in stasis, Max had moved on. She has to wonder whether she’s even the most important person in his life anymore or if Liz has vaulted her. “Is Noah…?” She’s not sure she wants to know the answer. It’s been two years. It’s not like they’d managed to say their goodbyes. She hadn’t been able to find him, which meant that she’d just vanished. He’s probably moved on or found someone new and Isobel crumples at the thought.

If only she’d been honest, maybe he would be there too.

“Pining for his wife,” Michael says and he even looks sympathetic. “I get it. Knowing someone you love is so far away and you can’t do anything to help sucks,” he admits. “You get a chance now, though. Sometimes, having to start all over again is hard, but it’s worth it. He’s gonna be so happy to see you.”

Isobel squints at him, wondering how he _knows_ that and when Michael became this font of knowledge.

Max doesn’t give her a chance to dive into why Michael is being so weird, helping Isobel to her feet. “Come on,” he says. “We’ll go to our place,” he says, meaning his and Liz’s, which is only a stark reminder of how much things have changed while she’s been gone. “I bet you can’t wait to have a bath. Then, we’ll get you a drink.”

“Box of wine?” Michael jokes. “On it.”

“At least make it rosé,” Isobel tries to joke, but she’s leaning heavily on Max, not ready to fight to show that she has energy when all she wants to do is collapse. 

She’s been in a pod and asleep for two years, but she feels like she could curl up in her housecoat and do it all over again, what with the tidal wave of change smashing into her and making her feel like she’s seven years old and a stranger all over again.

This time, she doesn’t have Max and Michael.

She’s the alien, now, and they’re the earthlings who have a place and a home. Isobel tightens her grip on Max as they leave, not ready to process that hard reality just yet.

* * *

After a week of lying on the couch at Max and Liz’s, Isobel hadn’t been making any progress or moves to get up and claim her life back. She’d been too scared to call Noah and even Michael was busy with his job to visit much. “He owns the junkyard now, runs his own auto repair shop,” Liz had explained. “I tried to get him to teach or do something more useful, but I guess old habits die hard.”

It’s when a week passes that everyone in her life decides enough is enough.

It's Liz who breaks into Isobel’s “me time” on the couch with two dresses in hand – a silver one that makes Isobel feel like she might as well get on a stripper pole and a classy black chiffon affair. Glaring up at Liz, she makes a face as she burrows into her blankets deeper. “No,” she says.

“Yes,” Liz counters, reaching down to tug her up. “We’re having a Welcome Back Isobel party and I’m not saying that you need to get off the couch and stop being a sad alien, but you need to get off the couch and be a person,” she says, pulling at the blanket. Isobel misses when Liz hated her for what she did to Rosa, but she doesn’t even need her powers to understand that with two years of space bridging her discovery of the facts, she’s been forgiven.

If she used her powers to go deeper, she’d get that Liz had started to see Isobel as a replacement of sorts. While Rosa will never stop being important to her, marrying Max is going to get her a sister back.

Isobel stares at the dresses a while longer. “Fine, the black one, but I’m only going for an hour.”

“Michael will make sure there is plenty of acetone on hand,” Liz guarantees, carefully hanging the black dress on the nearest door. “Besides, it’s been a week. I think it’s long past time that we got you back into the light, let you catch up on things. We invited everyone.”

 _Everyone…_?

“You invited Noah,” Isobel reads into that.

Liz, defiantly, stubbornly, says nothing. That means Isobel’s right, but maybe it’s what she needs. After all, it’s not like she’s brave enough to go after Noah on her own, so maybe she needs a future sister-in-law to do it for her.

Okay. _That_ is going to take some getting used to. She’s not sure that she ever saw a future where she actually likes Liz Ortecho, but watching her defiantly push Isobel out of her comfort zone to help her move forward at least unlocks some appreciation.

“How much acetone is Michael bringing?”

“His freshest batch.” 

Isobel sits up, deciding that she could at least put on some decent clothes. If she goes out while wearing those clothes, then why not? Liz leaves to get ready, but returns swiftly, sitting there like a guard to make sure that Isobel doesn’t decide to take the dress and bolt.

“Everyone ready?” Max calls, joining them in the main area when Liz calls out that everyone is decent once Isobel rejoins after touching up her makeup.

He's dressed well, but what strikes Isobel is the carefree joy on his face. What had he said when he'd found out they sent Liz away? He didn’t think that he deserved a goodbye? From the way he radiates joy right now, it’s clear that he’s figured out that he deserves all the joy in the world and for that, Isobel is happy.

At least she can start putting that guilt away about what they did to send Liz away.

“You look hot,” Liz praises, taking in Isobel in her black dress. “You ready for this?”

 _God_ , no, she’s not. Then again, she also feels like she doesn’t have a choice, so she lets Liz and Max tug her outside and drive her to town, sitting in the backseat of the Jeep and listening to Max and Liz bicker over the radio station before talking about admin changes at the station and the hospital. 

She tunes it out and tries not to think about what seeing Noah again is going to be like.

Once she gets to the Wild Pony, she steps inside and instantly feels like she’s made a mistake. WELCOME BACK ISOBEL is written on a glittery banner and there are people cheering for her. These people, these locals, would probably turn and run if they knew about who and what she really was, which makes their happiness to see her ring empty. Her eyes scan the crowd quickly and she doesn’t find Noah, but she does find Michael, who’s holding up a bottle that looks suspiciously like vodka or acetone, but at this point, Isobel isn’t picky.

She makes a beeline for the bar, sliding onto the stool beside him. 

“Welcome back, Isobel,” he mocks sarcastically, reciting the banner like it’s a line he had to memorize. “You feel welcome yet?”

She rolls her eyes and points to the glass that she expects him to pour. “Drunk locals inside a bar that’s seen better days, Max mooning over Liz, and you and me whispering off in a corner together.” She presses her lips together. “You said plenty has changed, but from where I’m sitting, nothing has.”

It still makes her feel a little off to watch the way Liz and Max drift into each other, like two colliding stars. Sure, she’d felt those emotions when she’d been inside of Liz’s head, but seeing it like this is a whole other thing and she still can’t shake that fear of losing Max completely. She makes a face as Michael pours her a glass, because Liz just put Bright Eyes on the jukebox and is coaxing Max to dance. 

“So, you’re still a regular here?” she assesses, judging by the easy smile Maria gives them as she passes on her way away from the counter, heading out to say hi to someone. “It looks like other things also never change.”

It’s strange to feel like an outsider in this town. People look at her with sympathy or confusion and as much as she’s happy none of them are looking at her like she’s a _murderer_ , she’s beginning to understand how Michael felt all those years, standing on the outside of society, looking in.

“Even if Max moved on, at least I’ll always have you. You don’t seem to have changed too much apart from inheriting the junkyard and you’re probably still in that trailer.”

Michael shifts on the stool, looking awkward. “Look, Iz, about that…”

“Seriously? What,” Isobel demands, letting her head fall back as she prepares herself for whatever confession Michael has. “What horrifying thing changed with you? You decided to become a doctor to challenge Valenti? You’re dating Jenna Cameron? Please don’t tell me you’re engaged, too.”

Before Michael can confess to whatever secret he’s been hiding, Maria returns to the bar, Valenti in tow. They’re standing close together and if Isobel needed to find the word for what’s going on between them, _canoodling_ might be the one she uses from the way that Maria has a possessive hand on Valenti’s forearm, joining their little group. 

“Hey Isobel, welcome…”

She holds up a hand to cut off Valenti’s well-wishes, her gaze narrowing in on Michael. As tense as the situation seems, Maria and Valenti aren’t going anywhere. Maybe she should have added ‘become a weird human-alien hybrid throuple’ to that list, given the way Maria and Valenti are acting and hovering.

“Don’t worry, none of those things are true,” Michael says and even when she studies his face, she can tell he’s not lying. “I’m just not the same guy. I have new facets and depths, and I don’t even get drunk every night of the week.” 

“Yeah, it’s more like every other night,” Maria agrees, leaning over the bar to crack open the tops on two beers for herself and Valenti.

Michael actually _sticks his tongue out_ at her, which is so childish that Isobel feels right at home.

“Besides, he’s not alone those nights,” Maria keeps talking, smiling fondly at Michael. It’s enough to make her feel relieved and wary at once. She’s happy that Michael has people looking out for him, but that means another of Isobel’s closest relationships has been replaced somehow.

She takes in a deep breath and turns to look at Michael, wanting the others to get lost. “What does she mean, not alone?”

“You didn’t tell her,” Maria accuses Michael.

“Seriously, DeLuca?” Michael glowers at her, and Isobel impulsively looks around the bar to make sure he’s not making anything move with his mind. “She’s been back for all of a week, she’s coping with Max and Liz’s engagement, and there are other more important things for her to worry about. We’re here tonight to celebrate her being back, not so everyone can pry into my personal life.”

Isobel has always hated secrets being kept from her and this one reeks of a big one, but she has to take it all piece by piece. For now, she’s pointedly looking at the way Valenti is rubbing a hand over Maria’s back.

“Did someone release pheromones into the water supply while I was out?” she asks, gesturing to the two of them, basically cuddling right in front of her eyes and being the kind of PDA that she always hates when she has to witness. “When did this start?”

“Liz is responsible for that mess,” Michael says with a smirk, clearly eager to jump on the new subject. “She felt bad for Valenti when she and Max started getting serious.”

“I can explain this myself, Guerin,” Valenti interrupts, but when Isobel gives him a pointed look to go on, he falters. “Liz kind of became my own personal Tinder. She set me up on about a dozen bad dates that always happened here at the Wild Pony…”

“And I took pity on him when one of them threw her drink in his face,” Maria says cheerfully, curling into Valenti's arm like she’s reliving a wonderful memory. Judging by the grin on Michael’s face, he seems pretty happy with that one, himself. “We went out for milkshakes the next night and once we got past the awkwardness of me figuring out if he was still into Liz, we decided to give it a shot.”

“Eleven months,” Valenti puts it into time, which gives Isobel a frame of mind as to when Max and Liz had started getting _serious_.

Isobel studies them both as she swirls her drink, leaning back like she’s holding court in the Wild Pony. She’s about to make a quip about how it’s a shame she never got to see Valenti without his shirt when she sees Michael reach for his phone, pushing off his stool to answer it. Isobel tunes out Maria and Valenti talking about how they got together, zoning in on Michael. 

“Hey babe,” Michael murmurs into his phone, turning away from Isobel so she can’t see who’s on the caller ID. “Yeah, we just got to the Pony, we’ll be here for a while, so take your time.”

She turns to Maria and Valenti, mouthing ‘babe’, but they just seem fondly amused by whatever it is that’s going on with him. 

“Nah, that sounds good. We can crash in town tonight, park the car wherever you want,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. “See you soon, okay? I love you.”

Isobel isn’t sure what’s more shocking. Michael is in a steady relationship where he’s serious enough to be saying ‘I love you’ over the phone in a public place or that Michael hasn’t screwed it up while she’s been under. Before she has a chance to grill him about it and get a name, something happens that makes her entire world go sideways.

“Oh my god, Isobel,” Noah breathes out her name and suddenly, it’s like Isobel’s crash landed on earth all over again. 

The rest of the world vanishes in that moment. Michael is still on the phone talking to whoever his new girlfriend is and is heading out the door to meet her, Maria and Valenti have moved off to dance with Max and Liz nearby, and all the locals are giving them a wide berth. She turns towards Noah’s voice, using it as a lifeline, and when she sees him, something in her breaks.

It's relief and guilt and love. 

She’s so happy to see him, but he looks like he’s seen better days. He’s grown a beard in (which she never let him do before because she’d hated the feel of it) and he looks thinner. His shoulders are heavily sunken forward, like he’s used to being beat down, but where there’s hope is in his eyes. They shine as he looks at her, which means that maybe it’s not all bad. His lips curve up, just a little, like he thinks he might be caught in a dream.

“I wanted to come sooner,” Noah admits, stepping between them. “I didn’t know if you wanted to see me. Max said that I should give you some space while you adjusted.”

Isobel clenches her jaw and tries not to get angry at Max for trying to protect her, even though it’s come in the form of him making decisions for her again. 

“It’s so good to see you,” he says. With another step forward, he’s within reaching distance. Isobel lets her hand drift into the space between them. For a moment, she’s caught up in second-guessing, and before long, things get awkward. She lets her hand fall back to her side, which makes Noah’s face fall. “I should have ignored Max. Plenty of times,” he scoffs. 

He steps forward again. There’s barely a breath of space between them.

“How are you doing? Are you healed?”

“I’m all better,” she promises. She doesn’t hesitate this time, reaching out to take his hand in hers. She feels shaky and unsteady, but the warmth of his hand grounds her and Isobel begins to feel a little like herself, even if it’s a new her. “I think I’m all healed.”

Better, but not whole.

“Can we go somewhere and talk? Maybe back to our place?” Noah asks, and there’s that hope again. She can hear it in the way he speaks, though desperation clings on the heels of all that hoping.

“We still have a place?”

Noah nods, and turns her hand in his, brushing his thumb in slow strokes against the back of her palm. “Give up that kind of real estate? I’m not stupid,” he jokes. “My car’s outside, I’m gonna wait so you can say goodbye to everyone and you won’t want to rush back here. That is, if you _want_ to come with me.”

She does and even though she’s not sure if her motivation is because she wants to go with Noah or if it’s that she wants to escape, the important thing is that she wants to. 

Isobel squeezes his hand, then she nods. “Yes,” she says. It’s firm and clear. There’s no doubt that she wants to do this. Noah lifts her hand to his lips and brushes a whiskery kiss to her palm, but she makes a face when the beard bristles. “I told you I hated that on you,” slips past her lips, even though she should probably be playing nice with her estranged husband.

Noah laughs and shrugs, clearly not minding so long as she’s talking to him at all. “Maybe you’ll convince me to do something with it. I’ll be outside. Text if something changes, please?”

He sounds halfway to desperate and Isobel’s guilt begins to swarm. She can’t blame him, seeing as she did disappear out of his life without a word two years ago. If the positions were switched, she’s not sure that she’d be so calm. She suspects that there would be much more rage to contend with. Her eyes follow Noah until he’s gone, and now comes time for Isobel to be a mature adult ready to face a hard conversation, and follow him.

 _Not yet_. 

She’s incredibly wary about the conversation to come, but he hadn’t told her to get away from him. He’s going to sit in his car and wait for her, then they’re going to go home and talk. That’s not a death sentence, that’s just a conversation (no matter how much it seems otherwise). She wonders how many questions he’s thought up in two years. She wonders how many of them he already has answers to. Worse, how many of them is she going to answer today for the first time and how many will he not like the reality of?

She needs another drink before she can do that and Noah had agreed to wait while she wrapped things up. After all, when she’d taken two years to emerge from her pod, what’s one more drink?

She heads back to the bar to take the stool beside Michael, who’s clearly back from greeting whoever he’s in a relationship with. Even though Isobel cranes her neck to look for the woman, she doesn’t see anyone who fits the bill of ‘Michael Guerin Tamer’ in the bar and while a few people in town are giving him the usual onceovers, no one’s doing anything about it. He looks softer than he had before, _happier_.

“Back so soon? No quickies in the car?” she can’t help teasing. “I thought that’s why you kept that truck of yours. Great real estate in the back seat.”

“Can’t argue that,” he quips. “Don’t worry. I’ll let you meddle as soon as we get you something to drink. Then, you can ask all the questions you want seeing as I doubt I’m allowed to ask about that awkward reunion I just watched.”

“Nice to know you’re still a genius.”

He leans over the bar to pour her a fresh drink, even though she probably should he easing back seeing as she’s going to have to talk to Noah soon and she doesn’t want to be a sloppy drunk for that discussion. 

At the same time, acetone numbs the pain and she’s feeling plenty of that. 

She’s in the middle of sipping her vodka-acetone mix when she sees movement out of the corner of her eye. She turns to smugly greet Michael’s girlfriend and start in on the meddling she’s owed, but pauses when she sees Alex Manes wrapping an arm around Michael’s shoulders. It’s startling to begin with, but when Michael turns for a soft, lingering kiss, Isobel wonders if she’s gone too far with the drinking and just didn’t notice.

“…Michael?”

“Turns out, in my story, I’m a protagonist in a YA romance,” he jokes, rubbing his palm up and down Alex’s hip. “Iz, I want you to meet Alex, my boyfriend.”

There’s a look Alex shoots Michael, sort of half-amused and half like Michael did something wrong. Whatever silent conversation they have ends when Alex leans over and shakes her hand. “I’m his partner,” he corrects. “We decided against the word boyfriend, and I know we’ve met, but you know how he can be dramatic,” he whispers, like he isn’t right in front of Michael when he says it. 

She’s still gaping. 

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, sometimes, Iz, when a boy and another boy like each other a lot…”

Alex pinches Michael ‘s side, forcing him to make a face as they shuffle. It’s effortless. Michael stands, Alex sits on the stool, and Michael leans against him casually, his hand sliding down the back of the soft sweater Alex is wearing that appears a size too big (Michael’s, maybe). She sets her drink down, knowing that the longer she stays here to grill them, the more she’s putting off heading out to go with Noah. 

Right now, that seems like the _best_ idea.

“How long has this one been going on?” She gestures between them, slowly working herself out of her shock. “Is this another Liz Ortecho specialty?” She wants to ask Michael so many other questions, because since when is he bisexual? Since when is his type ‘sexy airmen’? If she’d known, she would have worked a lot harder to get him to come with her when she went to the nearby base to pick guys up, pre-Noah. “What is it, eleven months? Less?”

Michael and Alex exchange an awkward look, but it’s Alex who breaks the silence.

“Uh,” he starts, “I guess twelve years? I mean, we weren’t together through all of it, but it started twelve years ago. It was two years ago when he and I restarted properly.”

“Being friends with someone you’ve been in love with for a decade is a real bitch,” Michael complains. “Lucky for me, someone puts out on the fifth date,” he cheerfully announces, which gets an ‘ugh’ from Maria nearby.

Isobel knows the feeling. 

“Everyone knows? Except me,” she realizes, exhaling slowly as yet another thing is added to the pile of things that Isobel missed out on. Even without knowing it before she’d gone into the pod, she’d missed this and she’d been _around_. Blacking out and losing time, but around. 

Suddenly, she’s had enough.

The prospect of driving off with her husband for an uncomfortable conversation is better than sitting in a bar surrounded by people whose lives have moved on. As sad as they both might be, Noah’s probably the closest person who can understand what she’s feeling right now. She’d been in stasis, but he’d willingly frozen his life, from the sounds of it.

“Isobel,” Michael exhales, moving around to Alex’s other side so he can be closer to her. “Hey, we didn’t mean to keep you out of the loop, but Alex wasn’t ready to tell you before you went in the pod…”

She holds up a hand to stop whatever other excuses he wants to use to make her feel better. “Let’s not,” she pleads. “Okay? I’m happy that you found someone,” she says, and she’s glad to hear the sincerity in her voice. “I’m happy that Liz and Max finally got over their ridiculous angst, but it breaks my heart that you both did it without me.” 

She’s going to cry if she stays here much longer and Noah is waiting outside, offering her an escape. As if he heard his name, she sees Max drifting over from where he and Liz had been lazily making out in a booth.

“Isobel, what’s wrong?” She’s not sure that she can deal with the concern in Max’s voice, who’s probably feeling everything that she is through their connection. She puts out her other hand to keep Max and Michael at arm’s length. It’s not their fault that they kept living their lives, but she can’t deal with that right now.

She takes in a deep breath and reminds herself that she is Isobel Evans-Bracken. She will rise above this.

“Noah’s outside,” she says, calming herself. She can feel everyone’s eyes on her, which means she needs to hold it together. “I’m going to take a drive with him. You guys keep partying,” she encourages. “I’ll call,” she vows to Max, reaching over to squeeze Michael’s hand. “I’ll drop by tomorrow,” she tells him. She turns to Alex, who looks a little panicked. “You and Michael,” she says, but hasn’t got anything else to say about that. At least, not tonight.

Shaking her head, she definitely can say that she never saw it coming. Then again, after all the revelations she’s endured over the last week, she’s not sure anything else can surprise her. 

She grabs her purse and walks out before she can let the wave of emotions crest over her and knock her out. Isobel’s so proud that she doesn’t cry and when she slides into the passenger seat of Noah’s car, she’s able to look at him with clear eyes, even if she feels the weight of a terrifying ache in her heart.

“Everything okay?”

She makes a sound at the question, not able to answer that honestly. She’s decided that no matter what, she wants to be honest with Noah, and that means she can’t answer that without breaking down.

“Can we just go?”

“Of course,” Noah promises, turning away from her.

Noah drives them back to their house silently, not demanding conversation or explanations from her on the way, which she appreciates with all her heart. Isobel isn’t sure she could manage, if he did. Once they arrive at the house, he leads her in, a sheepish look on his face. It doesn’t take long to understand why. It’s a mess and if he hadn’t mentioned he still lived here, then Isobel would’ve doubted that anyone could survive in this disarray.

“Noah,” she murmurs, her brow furrowed. “What happened?”

“My wife vanished without a trace or an explanation,” he says, rubbing his palm over his beard. “I found the pods, Isobel, I found you in one of them and I couldn’t make myself understand. I couldn’t even go to Max and ask, not for a few months. He was living there until Liz forced him to move the books out and Alex installed the webcam.” 

He’s so close and Isobel wants to reach out and touch him, but it feels like he’s a world away. 

She doesn’t even know where to start and she feels so tired and _emotional_. It would be so easy to use her powers and take the shortcut to get him to forgive her for it, but she doesn’t want to. She’s lied by omission for so long and now that she’s better, she needs to _act_ better.

“I wanted to tell you, but we were always so scared,” Isobel admits. “What I did…”

“For better or worse.”

“What?” 

She knows what he’s talking about, but why now? Why this?

“We said those words to each other and I meant them. Sure, I didn’t know that ‘worse’ might include alien murders, but I believe Michael when he says that it wasn’t you. I believe that when you were thirteen, the three of you didn’t have a choice.”

Her heart hammers in her chest as Noah spills all of her secrets. It’s like the night he let the acetone bottles fall from the truck. He’s laying out her life in front of her and she doesn’t know what to do with it. She also doesn’t know what to do about the anger she feels at Max and Michael for revealing this for her, though after two years, Noah deserved to know. Especially if Liz and Alex already did, because this is _fair_ that he knows, too.

It doesn’t help Isobel’s need to clasp control and she quickly feels like she’s spiralling, reaching out for Noah. He catches her, pulls her close. 

“We don’t have all the answers yet, I know,” he says, “but I just need to know that you’re willing to be honest with me. I don’t care if we don’t know if you’re ET or Independence Day, just talk to me. _Please_ , Isobel. I couldn’t move on. Liz and Michael worked every day, somehow, finding a way to get you back. Max and Alex, they were there and they let me rant to them and rave. I think Alex went to three continents to look for weird dark web stuff Michael sent him after, all for you, so we could get you out.”

She’s been strong for as long as she can. With Noah’s arms wrapped around her, Isobel lets herself collapse into them. Before, it had felt like the weight of twenty years’ worth of secrets had been like a concrete slab on her chest, but now that Noah knows everything, it’s like releasing them has somehow incapacitated her.

“Hey,” Noah murmurs, holding her tight. “I’ve got you. Isobel, I have you, I promise. You can let go. You can be you around me. I _want_ you to be you and I won’t love you any less.” 

She buries her face in his chest and lets herself cry. 

For the first time since she’s been out of the pod again, she cries and feels like the same lost little girl she had been before, but she hadn’t been alone then and she’s not now. She lets Noah pick her up in a bridal carry and bring her to bed, where they spend the night lying together. He doesn’t ask any questions and they don’t actually do much talking beyond him constantly checking in to make sure she’s still okay, but he does one better.

He gives her the gentlest of touches as they lie in bed facing one another, cheeks pressed on pillows that smell of him and not her. She’s two years removed from this home, but she intends to make her presence known in it again soon enough. 

She can’t take another day of living in the shadow of Max and Liz’s happy little life, not when she has her own to get back to.

“I wanted to find you, the night I went into the pods,” she admits, on the cusp of falling asleep. “I wanted to see you, say goodbye.”

“Would you have told me the truth?”

She hates that she shakes her head no, but she’s vowed to be honest. He would have been told yet another lie. 

“Then maybe, as much as the last two years have been terrible, it’s worth it for us to be here, with nothing hiding between us,” Noah murmurs, his fingers settling on her hip. Hers are on his heart, letting the steady murmur send her to sleep.

Two years. Alex and Michael apparently had to wait _twelve_ and they’re together and seem happy enough. If Noah is willing (and he really seems like he is), then the two of them can figure it out together because two is nothing compared to that.

She falls asleep and her dreams are filled with Noah’s presence. When she wakes up, he’s still there and Isobel smiles fondly before she slides in a little closer to him so that his warmth and the safety of his embrace can send her back to sleep.

* * *

“I want to try again,” says Max, when he wakes Isobel up a week later with a phone call.

She’s been staying at the house with Noah while they talk and repair the gaps in their marriage. He knows so much of what she’s been telling him, but insists that he wants to hear it from her mouth. It’s not easy. They only sleep in the same bed three nights out of seven. The other times, one of them is at the bar, Isobel goes to Max or Michael, or Noah sleeps on the couch because as much as they want to work on this together, there are rough patches when you admit to being a murderer and the fact that you don’t even know the cause of the blackouts. It’s scary as hell to admit that the blackouts might _still_ happen. It’s also difficult to admit that she’d been a key participant in what got her to the point of dying and being put into stasis in the pod. 

It’s hard, but they’re getting there.

“Try what?”

“Us getting together. Maybe not so much in public this time. I was thinking we could come over to your place,” he suggests. “We’ll bring food, beer, maybe watch a movie?”

Isobel isn’t so sure that’s a good idea, but now that she’s back at the house and is trying to collect the pieces of her life to form a picture, she could use Max and Michael around. Now that they have partners, it’s not like it used to be. She leans on Noah, Max turns to Liz, and Michael has Alex.

It’s almost like they’re properly functioning adults -- _almost_ \-- but it makes her miss the days when they only had each other to turn to.

She also knows that turning Max down will mean nothing. “You already asked Noah and he said yes.”

The silence on the other end of the line is telling.

“Since I apparently have no choice, make sure you get plenty of food. I get to pick the movie,” she insists, because if this is happening, she wants to make sure they don’t get stuck watching some awful action flick. 

“Great, we’ll see you at seven,” Max says.

Isobel stares at her phone and grimaces, rubbing her eyes as she prepares herself for the day ahead. She sees Noah sipping coffee in the doorway and she tangles the blankets around her to pull them closer and burrow in as she looks at him. 

“How’d he convince you to do it?” she asks.

“Said something about how he and Liz haven’t had a date night in a while and that they missed you. Which turned into Liz inviting Maria, who invited Kyle, and if we didn’t invite Michael, we’d never hear the end of the complaining, which means he’s bringing Alex. His exact text was ‘if I have to watch you making out, you can watch me grope his ass’ before I got an apology text from Alex.”

This isn’t just a cozy get-together, then. This is practically a dinner party waiting to happen.

“I’m not putting on real pants. They can deal with me in yoga pants,” she says, firm when it comes to setting her terms. 

“You say that like you in yoga pants is a bad thing,” Noah replies, letting his gaze slide over Isobel’s body, her cheeks flushing at the outright flirtation, something she hasn’t seen from him since the early days of their relationship. 

She buries her face in the pillow not because she wants to go back to sleep, but because she can’t have Noah seeing the effect that he has on her. 

“I’m picking the movie,” she says.

Noah smiles fondly. “I know. It’s still in the machine,” he says. “I’ll get the backyard set up and run to the liquor store. Max is bringing the food. You just take your time.”

She wants to protest that she’s not helpless and she’s a better event planner than anyone else in Roswell, but seeing as putting the pieces back together on her life and her marriage is _exhausting_ , she lets herself have this day. She soaks in the bath and catches up on the news (both local and worldwide). She spends more time trying to self-reflect and look for clues for what happened with Rosa and her blackouts, but she doesn’t get anywhere. By four, Noah is back and setting up the backyard with string lights, drinks, and big cushions. 

The house actually looks like a place where people live again, with Isobel and Noah taking it in turns to exhaust some of their grief and frustrations and worry through cleaning.

Five on the dot and there’s Max, with Liz, Maria, and Valenti in tow.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you if you were a minute late,” she points out, kissing his cheek. Her eyes flick down to the bags of food Maria and Valenti have, pointing them to the backyard. “Noah’s back there, he can help you get started on the food.”

Once they’re gone, Liz reaches out to take her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so glad you said yes to this,” she says earnestly. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, trying not to sound overly sarcastic, but instincts take over, “My marriage is on the precipice of toppling into disarray or repair, you two are getting married, and Kyle Valenti is in my backyard with a woman who I thought hated me. Not to mention, Michael apparently is a responsible adult in a relationship. It’s a lot.”

“We’re still processing that last one and it’s been two years,” Max promises. 

“Some of us have known even longer,” Liz accuses.

“You knew before?” Isobel demands.

“You didn’t see the way Michael looked at Alex at prom,” Max says with a shrug. “I’d never seen him look that way at anyone. I had a good feeling about it. He’s not here yet, is he?”

“Michael, on time?”

“Right,” Max says, tangling his fingers with Liz’s. “Let’s go help with the food. I don’t want to be in the crossfire when Michael does turn up.” Which is very wise of him, though Isobel is trying to turn over a new, more understanding leaf, knowing how much Michael worked to help save her life. 

Unsurprisingly, Michael and Alex don’t show up for another forty-five minutes, which is an hour and forty-five past when she’d told him to be there (she’s long been feeding Michael fake times to get him to be punctual, but that clearly has stopped working). It doesn’t take too long to figure out the reason for the delay.

Eyeing Michael, she’s unimpressed. “Your shirt is backwards,” she says. “I think I preferred this when it was a secret,” she says flatly, but Michael doesn’t seem to care, though he does take the time to try and fix his shirt. 

Once he’s presentable, Michael leans in to press a kiss to her cheek, lifting up the six-pack of beers that he’s brought as if that’s going to be enough. 

“We’re really sorry,” Alex, clearly the polite one, tries to manage. “He was working all day and I just got home, things got a little…”

She dismisses the apology with a hand in the air.

“The less I hear about my brother’s sex life, the better.”

“It’s epic,” Michael whispers as he passes her. Clearly, Alex has been doing a lot of apologizing over the last two years, if this is how Michael acts when he’s in an actual relationship. She’s going to need a lot of acetone to get those images out of her mind (Michael’s half of the images, at least, because she can admire Alex Manes’ ass as much as anyone else in this town).

With everyone finally there, she locks the door and heads out to the backyard.

This is her domain and while she might not feel like she’s completely settled back into it, this is where she feels most in control. She lets them cook and joke by the grill, watches as Michael and Max set up the cushions for the movie later all while teasing each other, and Isobel takes the opportunity to check in with Alex, who’s leaning against a wall, smirking every time Michael looks over and falters when he catches Alex looking.

“If I knew how much power you had over him, I would’ve recruited you to my side so much sooner,” Isobel informs him. “Maybe we could’ve managed to get him a real house.”

“He has one, now,” Alex says proudly. “We live in my cabin together, with the Airstream at the junkyard for…special occasions.” He looks a little sheepish, like he’s heard all of Isobel’s griping about the sex and is making accommodations. “He’s missed you so much,” he says, turning so that his full attention is on Isobel. “I can’t tell you how many nights I would come home and he’d still be at the lab with Liz. Once a year passed, it got really bad. He freaked out like I’ve never seen before. I don’t think he thought they’d ever crack it. Liz’s lab rats kept dying or something would go wrong…”

Isobel looks over, watching Michael and Max play-shoving each other, obviously a half step away from a pillow fight.

“He kept going, though. So did Liz,” Alex says. “They were never going to give up on you, not ever.” 

“I’m glad they didn’t. I want to live,” she says, as fiercely as the night in the psych ward. “And you? Michael mentioned that rebuilding things are hard. I take it he was talking about you?”

“Finding out your big secret was definitely rough,” Alex admits. “I’ve loved him since I was seventeen, but there’s been so many things in the way. We loved each other, but we didn’t know each other. About six weeks after you went into the pod, we had a really long, really good talk. We started off being friends,” he says. “Then, when I couldn’t bear the idea of him being only my friend, I asked him out on a date, then another, and then another, until he finally moved in with me. I know him, now. I know all about Michael Guerin, good and bad, and I’m glad that things are good between us.”

“I’m hoping Noah and I can get there too,” Isobel lets herself be open, maybe because she doesn’t know Alex so well. 

“I know you guys will,” Alex promises. “Liz and Michael did the work. Me and Max helped. It was Noah who kept the faith.”

“Alex!” Michael calls. “C’mere and help me test out this pillow!”

“That’s my cue,” he says, saluting her with his beer before he walks away.

It’s not long before Noah sets the food on the table and calls everyone to dinner. Isobel takes in a deep breath and lets herself drift through the motions. She eats and absently lets the conversation wash over her at the table. She doesn’t contribute much, but she’s not zoned out, just letting everyone else have their turn telling stories. She understands that they’re trying to catch her up, but it still feels like they’re all a part of an inside joke that she has no chance of understanding.

Once dinner is over, she throws herself into planning, if only to give herself the slightest bit of control back. 

While Valenti and Maria wash dishes and Noah works on setting up the movie, Isobel shows Max and Liz a wedding cake website, wanting to slowly start to introduce the idea of her planning the day for them. She can inundate them with invitations and dresses and suits later, but the wedding cake is an easy place to start. Once they start scrolling through, Isobel leaves them to it, because she can tell that both of them are starting to get overwhelmed as Isobel lays out an aggressive list of tasks that will need to be done. She needs to give them time to think about these things.

Besides, it’s sweet seeing Max so happy, laughing like he hasn’t in years all because of Liz and watching that from afar isn’t so bad. Now that she finally feels a little bit like herself again, she makes her way over to the Adirondack chairs where Michael’s settled, a beer in his hand. 

“You know,” she says, watching as Alex settles onto the arm of his chair with a new beer, Michael’s hand firmly on the small of his back to steady him. “With Max getting married, that just leaves you and I’m pretty sure that leading a man on for twelve years without a proposal is a dick move.”

She’s expecting a quick retort and something sarcastic. Instead, she gets weird emotional echoes reverberating off of Michael and an insanely _guilty_ look on his face. He’s always been an open book to her, now as much as ever. Isobel’s eyes widen and she _knows_ , suddenly, that Michael’s been keeping a secret from her. 

“Michael…”

“Iz,” he says, frantic, waving a hand to try and get her to stop, like he knows what’s coming.

It's a shame she has no intention of shutting up. “You _eloped_ , didn’t you!” she shouts.

“Shit, Isobel, keep your voice down,” Michael hisses as Alex’s eyes go wide in alarm.

“Why, because you think one more secret is going to do it? You think I’m going to have a breakdown? Why didn’t you just tell me! Why did you go through all the secrecy? So what? You got married before I came out of the pod, it’s not like this is as weird as Maria and Valenti knocking boots or the fact that Max gave Liz our grandmother’s ring. It’s weird, yeah, but twelve years is a long time. Please tell me it wasn’t some tacky Vegas wedding, Michael, because I will never forgive you if you got married like that.”

“Wait, who’s married?” Max asks as he comes over with the newly replenished cooler full of beer, having tucked his phone and all images of wedding cakes away.

Isobel stops mid-rant and gives Michael a confused look, gesturing to Michael and Alex (because _obviously_ ), then looks back to Max, ready to yell at him some more for keeping this huge news from her. 

“Wait,” she says, watching Max’s face shift from confusion to _hurt_.

She’s been gone for _two years_ and so much has changed. Why wouldn’t she just assume that this is one of the things that she’d missed? 

“They didn’t know, Iz,” Michael says, with a panicked look in his eye. “You know, how Max and Liz were doing the noble thing!” He’s starting to ramp up with his emotions, panic leading the charge. While Michael freaks out, Alex is rubbing a hand over Michael’s bicep, burying his face in Michael’s neck, but she can see him laughing. “The part where they’re decent human beings who didn’t get drunk one night and find the nearest justice of the peace because they decided that nah, they were done with dating after being together off and on for twelve years,” he rants. “So yeah, congratulations, Isobel, you are the first to know,” he says, but he’s shifted away from being pissed and now he looks amused and almost proud, like he’s been waiting ages to say this. “We got married. We eloped. I did _not_ take his name, but I definitely took something that night.”

“Ew,” says Max, and Isobel makes a face because she definitely agrees with that sentiment. She really doesn’t need to think of her brother that way.

That disgust fades to something else quickly enough when she realizes what that means. She presses her fingers over her mouth, but she’s smiling and her eyes are full of tears.

Isobel is so happy for him and she’s quickly on the other arm of the chair to press congratulatory kisses to Michael’s cheek, cupping Alex’s, but it’s not just that she’s happy for him. It’s that even after two years locked away while the world went on without her, there are still things that she’s the first to know.

It’s huge news and a big step and she got to find out first. 

She knows that it’s not exactly going to make up for all of it, but it goes a long way to making her feel like she hasn’t missed that much. If even Max didn’t know about Michael getting hitched, then it means that she only skipped a bit of the song, but it’s not done playing just yet. 

Giving Michael a nudge of her elbow, she gives him a harsh glare once the happiness subsides and the reality of what he did sinks in. Max standing above them, looking equally stunned and annoyed. 

“You should have waited,” she hisses.

“Why, so I could make Max wear a powder blue tux?” Michael quips, grinning at Alex with a waggle of his brows like he would’ve definitely done that. “We got to talking one night and neither of us wanted to make a big deal.” He rests his palm over Alex’s, giving him a fond smile. “It felt right. Most of our big moments were just the two of us. Getting married like that in the UFO Emporium…it was ours.”

“We could always have another wedding,” Alex offers.

Michael scoffs, shaking his head. “I’ll get to see you dressed up at Max’s shindig. I don’t see any reason to let people gawk at you beyond that. I don’t need another wedding,” he says, tangling his fingers up with Alex’s. “I’ve got the husband.”

“Hey! Guerin! The projector broke again!”

“That’s my cue,” Michael says, hopping away _very_ quickly, eager to run away.

Alex takes the opportunity to escape with his _husband_ (Isobel is _not_ letting that go so easily), clearly running away from the Evans. It leaves Isobel with Max. She’s still shell-shocked, but from the look on Max’s face, she’s not the only one.

“Did that seriously just happen?” Max asks, stunned. He doesn’t seem to be the only one. Liz and Maria are huddled together, eyes wide and gossiping about all of it and Valenti is congratulating Alex. 

Isobel shakes her head. “Michael, headstrong and stubborn?”

Yeah, that definitely just happened.

They stand there together for a long moment to process, but finally, some normalcy ebbs back into both of them. Isobel wraps an arm around Max’s waist and takes advantage of his proximity to lean her cheek against his shoulder, feeling that connection as strong as ever. Even though Max is with Liz, even though she’s missed time, it hasn’t weakened what they have. She needs to remind herself of that when it seems otherwise.

“Are you okay?” Max asks quietly, while Michael works with Noah to get the movie going. Nearby, Maria and Liz are working on blankets and picnic baskets, while Valenti and Alex grab beers. 

Isobel inhales slowly and looks at Max. “Not yet,” she admits, because she’s not. “I feel lost. Being with Noah feels like we’re always on the edge and I hate the pity in everyone’s eyes. I can’t even stomach the thought of facing Mom,” she confesses, reaching down to thread her fingers through Max’s. 

It sounds all bad, but it’s not.

“But,” she keeps going before Max can interrupt, “you’re happy. Liz loves you and you’re finally able to see that she has for years. Noah and I are going to work at it and he knows all of my awful secrets, so I can stop hiding them behind me. I can work to figure out what happened with Rosa. And,” she scoffs, in disbelief, “somehow, I go to sleep for two years and Michael’s the one who gets married. That’s not the Sleeping Beauty story Mom read us as kids.”

“He’s definitely more Tarzan,” Max jokes. “I’m gonna give him hell about that, but it can wait for tomorrow.” He turns to look at her, not paying attention to the party or Liz. In this moment, it’s just them and their connection. “All I want is for you to be happy, Iz.”

She does, too. She wants to promise that she is, but she also said no lying. Through teary eyes, she gives Max a smile and wraps both arms around him. “Just promise me,” she says, when she feels like she can control her emotions, “that you won’t let Michael convince you to make the groomsmen wear baby blue anything,” she says, “and let me keep planning your wedding.”

“Yeah? That’s all you want?”

There’s so much more she wants to ask for.

She wants to ask if Max and Michael are okay with her talking with Noah about a future and about _children_. She wants to corner Liz and demand that they figure out why she’d seen Rosa in her head. She wants to smack Michael for marrying someone before Isobel even got the chance to wake up and demand that Alex ask for permission.

Is she going to get any of that tonight?

“You know that’s not all I want,” she says, quietly. “What I want tonight is for everyone to enjoy the movie. I want no one ending up in a drunk tank, I don’t want to hear any comments about how my choice in movies is too cheesy, and I don’t want to see my family fumbling around with anyone under a blanket!”

That last part, she makes sure her voice gets much louder.

She takes smug victory in watching both Alex _and_ Liz flush slightly.

“Max,” Isobel says, turning to him, hugging him as tightly as she can. “I want us to be safe. I want you to be happy, and if it’s with Liz, then I’m sorry I missed it, but I’m back now. I’m better,” she says, smiling at him, even if she is getting teary.

“All right everyone! Quiet,” Noah calls from where he’s finished with the screen. “The movie’s started,” he says, and makes his way back to the blanket as _The Land Before Time_ begins to play. She gives Max one last squeeze before sending him off to be with Liz while she settles in with Noah. 

“You okay?” he asks, which is a question that she’s heard too many times lately.

Soon, Isobel is going to get tired of people asking her that, but from Noah, she wants him to keep asking, because she wants them to keep talking. She’s not lying when she nods, because as she leans into Noah’s warmth and lies down with him, she thinks that she is. She’s okay and if she’s not fully there, she’s on her way. 

She closes her eyes and basks in the evening. Noah’s warmth and the smell of him, all their friends around them. When the dinosaurs begin to hatch, she feels Noah’s bristly beard rub against her cheek. “Is that how you came out of your pod?” he teases her.

“You’re not funny,” she says, but she’s smiling and she feels protected and secure. She even feels like it’s not so much that she’s missed out as she’s just a little late to the conversation. 

_Yes_ , Isobel thinks, staring at her family and friends, safe and content and together. 

She’s going to be okay. It won’t happen tomorrow, it might not even happen next week or next month, but as she adjusts herself into Noah’s embrace, she knows that it will happen. She’s got a whole family to support her through it and she doesn’t plan on missing anything else, not from this moment.


	2. interlude 1: the secret wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Alex and Michael got hitched while Isobel was in the pod.

“I hate family dinner night,” Michael groans as he trudges back into the cabin, throwing his jacket over the couch before collapsing face-first on the pillows, Alex joining him soon after, an amused laugh he’s biting back tripping over his lips. 

After all, “You hate a free dinner and time with a family that you always come around to saying that you missed,” is Alex’s sarcastic reply, raising both his eyebrows as he pushes at Michael to make a space for himself to sit, tugging Michael’s head into his lap and tapping his shoulder to get him to turn around so that he’s facing Alex where he’s lying.

“Fine,” Michael grumbles as he shifts, making a big deal about how he’s contorting. “I hated _tonight’s_ family dinner.”

Alex isn’t surprised. Each Tuesday, they go to the Crashdown and Arturo closes so that he, Michael, Liz, Max, and Noah all sit down and eat together. Liz and Max’s engagement is barely three weeks old and it’s been the topic of the last three dinners, to the point that even Alex’s patience is starting to wear thin and it’s only his joy at seeing Liz so happy that’s keeping him from snapping.

Apparently, Michael’s reserves are depleted. 

“I just want to eat a burger and drink a milkshake and not hear about linens,” he gripes, gesturing wildly as Alex starts to sink his fingers into Michael’s hair. “It’s the same old song. Liz starts them off, everyone is excited, and then we look at Noah and remember that Iz isn’t around and everyone gets morose and shuts up. Lather, rinse, fucking repeat,” he mutters.

Alex opens his mouth to play the peacekeeper, but Michael’s not done.

“…and! You ever notice that even though we’ve been together for ages, it’s always about Max and Liz?” He’s really getting going, because his brow is furrowed and Alex can feel the table behind him vibrating. He sinks his fingers into Michael’s hair a little deeper, but with his free hand, he reaches for the bottle of whiskey to pour them glasses. 

Alex has noticed that part. Sometimes, he gets past it by telling himself that he and Michael are old news, but then again, no one is asking about their anniversary plans or about a housewarming they’re putting off until Isobel is back.

He gets why Michael’s upset, that’s all he’s saying. 

“Drink,” he says, because he’s gone and worked himself into a mood.

They’re halfway through the bottle of whiskey and Alex feels like it hasn’t helped matters. If anything, it’s only made them worse. Neither of them can drop the topic, which is strange because usually they’re not so fixated on things like this. Alex can’t let this go, though, and he suspects a lot of it has to do with the fact that he is annoyed that people are treating a year and change relationship as the most important thing.

“Why do we care so much?” he asks, his words slurring a little as Michael tops up his glass. He’s not drunk, but he is winding his way around to tipsy. “I’ve got you. I’ve got the cabin. Any time someone from high school who bullied me sees us, I know that I’m happier than them,” he says, his palm rubbing aggressive circles on Michael’s chest. 

So, what is it?

“It’s just Max acting like he’s the golden boy, the most important…” Michael complains. “Just because he proposed first!”

Alex is tipsy, but he’s not so tipsy that he doesn’t hear the last word of that sentence.

“You had plans to propose?”

Michael flushes and gestures around, wildly. “I mean,” he fumbles, which means that no, he didn’t have concrete plans, which isn’t surprising, but he keeps going, “no? Yes? I don’t know, we’ve been together for so long and once we sorted things out, I always figured that it was never a question of if we’d get married, more a question of when. Then we moved in together and it’s just been one renovation or room after another, then work got crazy, and it just kind of slipped my mind. I don’t care about the proposal or the engagement or a fancy wedding, I just wanna be married to you.” 

Alex knows the feeling, his cheeks going warm as he thinks about a very stupid idea.

“You know?” Michael hasn’t cottoned on yet, still rambling. “I want to wake up with you every morning, which we already do. I want to know there’s a piece of paper that helps us out once a year with our taxes, that I’m your emergency contact, that you and I, we’re...you know, together? With Isobel out, though, the last thing I want to do is propose and then be engaged while Liz and I keep failing to figure out a cure.”

“So, don’t.”

“What?”

Alex blames the whiskey. He blames Michael for looking so good. He blames Max and Liz for getting engaged, but maybe he should just blame the fact that if they’d gotten their shit together, they could have done this half a decade ago.

“Let’s get married.”

Michael laughs as he sits up and shifts so he’s sitting cross-legged, knee to knee with Alex. He stops laughing when he sees Alex’s face and how serious he is, because he _means_ it. “What, like, after Max and Liz? I’m not doing some weird Jane Austen double wedding,” he says, as if that’s something he needs to put his foot down on. 

“No, Michael,” Alex says, reaching for his hands to yank them into his lap. Michael may be the genius of the two of them, but right now, it’s Alex with the great ideas. He reaches for his phone and lets out a triumphant noise. “Perfect, it’s not even nine. I’ll call my friend from the next town over, he can come notarize the documents and run the ceremony, bring a witness.”

Michael’s eyes widen and he gets a hand fisted in Alex’s t-shirt. “Hey, babe,” he says. “Clarify something for me real quick. You want us to get married, right now? Tonight?”

“Aren’t you tired of waiting? I know I am,” Alex exhales, already dialling, but not pressing that last number until he sees Michael’s reaction. “Well?”

“Fuck, why not,” he agrees. “Let’s get hitched.”

Two hours later, they have their first kiss as husband and husband under the glowing stars of the UFO Emporium, documents binding them together for life being notarized nearby. They don’t have rings, they aren’t wearing suits, and they’re probably a few hours away from being sober, but as Alex looks into Michael’s eyes, remembering his vows, he knows that they made the right decision.

It’s long past time, after all. 

“You realize we can’t tell a soul,” Michael says as he gets comfortable in bed after their fifth round of honeymoon sex (seeing as they can’t exactly take a trip). “Max and Liz are waiting for Isobel and if we announce that we eloped, they’d kill us. Noah would make those sad eyes, and Maria would probably get on your case for not letting her throw the party.”

Alex tangles his fingers with Michael’s as he slides them up his chest to rest above Michael’s heart. “It doesn’t matter,” he murmurs. “I’ve got the man, that’s all I wanted.”

“You and me against the universe,” Michael says, and there are stars in his eyes as he says it, like he’s fallen in love with Alex all over again. 

“You and me,” Alex agrees. 

He knows that tomorrow, he’ll be back on the dark web to look for alien artifacts, Michael will be in a lab with Liz bursting and unable to explain why he’s so happy, but from tomorrow onwards, they’re going to face it together, hitched. It doesn’t matter if they don’t get to tell anyone yet. When Isobel is out of the pod, then they’ll have their day.

And when they do, if anyone brings up a single other subject at Tuesday family dinner, then Alex is going to throw his milkshake at them, because they deserve some of the focus, just the once.


	3. interlude 2: five of Kyle's terrible romantic encounters & one good one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Liz and Max start to get serious, she decides to start a campaign to make sure Kyle isn't feeling left out.
> 
> aka, 5 Times It Didn't Work Out & The 1 It Did

1.

Susannah is from Denver and she’s an Instagram model.

“Liz,” Kyle says. “Why?”

“Look, you need to ease back into the dating game and I’m not giving you the best material at the start,” she tells him. “Besides, she’s hot.” 

She is, Kyle isn’t arguing that, but when he takes her to the Wild Pony, she annoys Maria for ten minutes by asking for the whole catalogue of beer imports before deciding that she’s not really wanting to feel that bloat, transitioning to asking for a list of cocktails. Honestly, it’s a miracle that Maria doesn’t just throw the thing in her face. 

Kyle definitely suspects there’s some spit in it, judging from the overly sweet way Maria says, “Enjoy your beverage, honey,” when she drops it off.

Susannah doesn’t even blink. “Wow,” she says, sipping her drink and beaming at Kyle. “She’s so nice!”

Suffice to say, Susannah the Instagram Model doesn’t work out.

“Don’t worry,” Liz says the next day when Kyle gives her the bad news about his dating luck. “I’ve got plenty of other avenues we haven’t even tried. We’re going to find you someone,” she promises. 

Should Kyle feel weird about letting his ex-girlfriend set him up on dates to try and assuage her own guilt about moving on? He’s told her time and time again that he’s fine with her dating Max. You’d have to be blind not to see that writing on the wall and they’d only had a casual relationship that was mainly physical. At the same time, he does love her, even if he’s not in love with her, and he can see that it’s helping her to do this. 

Kyle buckles in, ready for whatever is coming next. 

2.

“Her name is Stella, she’s smart, funny, and she’s a doctor too!” 

Kyle makes a face as he thinks about the Stella that he’d known through pre-med and had dated briefly, only to end in a spectacular haze of shouting and things he’d regretted saying. “Is her last name McIsaac?”

“You know her?”

“Let’s not go through with this one,” Kyle says, and swipes left, because he really doesn’t want to end the date with a black eye. 

As sad as it is, he has a much better time sitting alone in the Wild Pony than he would walking down Nostalgia Lane with a woman that he’s fairly sure hates him. Besides, the night’s not a complete wash. Once Maria closes up, she joins him with a bottle of Fireball and Kyle decides that he’d made a good decision in not seeing Stella. 

He can make one very bad one with his choice in liquor. He’s off tomorrow, he can pay for it then.

(And oh, he does)

3.

After a successful first date, he takes Naomi on a double-date with Michael and Alex, which is a _huge_ mistake. 

“She’s really nice,” he tells Alex when they meet up to drive to the bar together. “Can you at least try and make Michael behave?”

Wrong thing to say, given the annoyed look on Alex’s face. “Why do you think that Michael’s the one who needs to behave? I remember you have a hard time keeping comments to yourself sometimes too.” Kyle shakes his head and wishes that he’d avoided pressing that hot topic button when it comes to Alex’s defensiveness over Michael Guerin. “Besides, why don’t you need to ask me the same thing?”

In retrospect, he should have.

Even Michael looks wary when Alex leans too far into his personal space, uses one too many overly fond nicknames, and at one point, pins Michael to the booth so he can make out with him, in an aggressive way that is definitely a ‘fuck you, Kyle Valenti’.

It’s actually not that Naomi is upset that’s the deal-breaker.

“You think they’d let us join them tonight?”

That’s where things go off the rails.

4.

He and Jenna try to go out for a drink. 

It’s not the worst drink in the world, but he’s not so sure that a drunken hookup in the alley behind the Pony is grounds to start a relationship. They spend a month scratching each other’s itches before things get awkward when their dates don’t consist of more than three sentences before they rely on sex like a crutch. 

Technically, Liz had asked Max to help set it up.

He wonders how awkward it would be if he asked Liz to ask Max to help shut it down. 

5.

When Liz is out of town for a conference, he thinks that he’s in the clear. He thinks that maybe he’s managed to get himself a few weeks of respite, but then Max turns up with a pained look on his face and a cell phone in his hand. 

“No,” Kyle protests. “You’re not serious.”

“Liz left me really specific instructions about my job with you while she’s out of town. She gave me access to your Tinder profile and everything so I can swipe…” Max frowns, staring at his phone. “Wait, which way do I swipe?”

What’s already a disaster only gets worse, because he’d been enjoying a drink at the Wild Pony, which means that soon enough Guerin arrives for his nightly drink and finds Max trying to figure out how to slide into someone’s DMs while Maria watches with an amused look, polishing glasses just a little too long and a little too close to be anything but nosy. 

“Okay, slide over,” Guerin insists, taking the opposite stool. “I may not know how the hell I got Alex, but the whole drunken hookup thing is something I excelled at for nearly a decade, let a master work.”

Somehow, this disaster leads to Michael getting a hold of his phone and Kyle only gets to watch as Michael starts swiping right on women that he might never have thought twice about. When he’s done, he hands back Kyle’s phone with a devious smirk that he doesn’t like, and Maria seems to be hiding her amused smile behind her hand, while Max sighs and shakes his head.

Kyle opens his mouth to ask why, but doesn’t have to wonder for very long. 

“Damn it, Guerin,” he snaps. “When’d you set my preferences to bi?” he demands, staring at a fresh conversation that Michael’s started off with the guy (who’s hot, he can’t lie), but _definitely not his type_.

Maria presses a supportive hand to his shoulder and squeezes. “I mean,” she says, tipping her head to the side to study tall, dark, and handsome in a cowboy hat on his phone screen. “You definitely could do worse.”

“Much worse,” Michael agrees.

Kyle doesn’t even bother to reply to them because he hates them and he hates that Max is letting this happen and he hates Liz for ever deciding his love life needs the assist. 

6.

“Asshole,” says Iris, who throws a drink in his face when he asks if she’s feeling all right after the surgery. He’d assumed, seeing some of the marks, that she’d had some work done recently and given the fact that they’d circled around all the other small talk conversation topics, Kyle had glommed onto that one.

Kyle wipes away some of the cosmo droplets from his face, grimacing as they fall onto the table, feeling pretty shitty about his love life when Maria comes by with a towel to start wiping up the mess.

“I don’t know who gave you the tips on charm, but asking a woman about her nose job isn’t high on the list of smooth moves,” she says, giving Kyle a dubious look. “She was…number six? Or am I supposed to count Jenna as more than one?”

Kyle stares at her and wonders if Maria’s been keeping track this whole time. 

Has he really not noticed her while she’s been watching his love life explode in a spectacular wreck of flames every few weeks? Speaking of which, that makes him wonder something else, something that might give him an exit if only Maria will share her tips and the benefit of her wisdom.

“How come Liz isn’t here interfering in your love life?”

Maria gives Kyle a wry smirk. “Liz Ortecho learned a long time ago not to push those buttons, but I had plenty of crashes and burns myself. You should just be happy you didn’t have a dusty Texas rounder with Guerin before he and Alex figured their shit out.”

Kyle narrows his eyes at Maria, trying to imagine that and not really able to.

“I think I could have resisted his charms.”

“You say that now,” she teases, reaching down for a bottle of Kyle’s favorite beer. “On the house,” she says. “Seeing as most of the last round is on you,” she says, and hands him a dry towel from behind her back, reaching over to dab some of the liquid off his face, which makes him smile warmly at her for the affection.

He’s having a very bad idea right now, actually. It’s definitely not as bad as getting dusty and dirty with Guerin, though. 

“Hey,” he says, when Maria turns to head back to the bar. “Do you want to have a drink with me sometime?”

Maria pauses from where she’s been walking away, glancing over her shoulder with an amused smile on her face. She looks Kyle over considerately from where she’s standing, her gaze lingering on his lips and she’s pretty sure on his abs, before she shrugs. 

“Why not,” she agrees. “I’ve seen you at your romantic worst. Might as well see what you’re like when you’re at your best.”

**Author's Note:**

> Always eager and ready to discuss every single one of these incredible characters over on my tumblr ([andrea-lyn](http://andrea-lyn.tumblr.com/) if anyone is after more!


End file.
